Article Absolute
by Insidiously
Summary: Lawrence&Adam. Adam has gone crazy, all of the negative events in his life have piled up and caused him to breakdown. Only one man can save him: Dr. Lawrence Gordon.
1. Forward

**A/N #1: Oh, Lordy. It has been… how long since I have been on here? I have actually been battling the worst bout of writer's block I have EVER experienced. It wasn't just that I was lacking in ideas, I actually stopped wanting to write! That was truly a first for me. The reason I haven't been reviewing all of the stories and authors I normally would is that, quite frankly, it was too.. painful. I will review everything soon though, I promise. So this is just a little prologue to a new multi-chapter fic. I wanted to finish the other two first (The Last of Adam and The One) but this little ditty was the only decent thing I wrote during my giant absence, so I figured I would post it. I know it is short, but it is just meant to be a blurb/letter. Sorry again for how much I suck.**

May 11, 2008

He was Lawrence Gordon, your everyday, run-of-the-mill American male. On a daily bases he walked the stark, harsh halls of a large imposing hospital wearing the same white overcoat that allowed each passer by to know the high-held place he had, after many years of working overtime and kissing ass, finally acquired at his job. Each day he combed his hair in exactly the same way (over to the left and then down the side) and each day he held the same emotionless expression on his handsome face: pale skin stretched tight in burning squint, stopping abruptly at his thin crimson lips. His cheeks were a hollow result of an abrupt weight loss and his all of his features were framed by worry-lines and eyebrows constantly pulled into a gut-wrenching furrow. To be frank, he looked half-dead most mornings. God forbid you saw him in the early AM after a 15 hour shift… You'd swear you had entered into the apocalypse. This zombie-like appearance was only heightened by the most distinctive thing about his body: the lack of a foot on his right limb.

At first glance at this half man you would assume he had no imagination, no life and, if it weren't for the glistening gold wedding band laced proudly on his ring finger, no love. As it happens, this was entirely untrue about Lawrence Gordon. His problem in life was that he had too much.

I expect the state he had fallen in wouldn't have been nearly as bad if it weren't for the incident a few months back regarding another regular at this hospital. As hard as it is to believe, our dear Larry was once a normal, healthy and sane upper-class man capable of not only saving physical lives but souls as well. They were a strange pairing, Lawrence and his lover. I had never quite seen anything like them. Rest assured however, that they were in the purest kind of love possible. They were each other's lives and, as is particularly notable now, each other's deaths. Love works in mysterious ways…

Jeremy McKinnon, The Inquirer.

_ J. McKinnon_

**A/N #2: I don't expect you to review. This is short and honestly, really crappy. It's not exactly my normal writing style, so. Anyway, I am just going to plunge back into writing and hopefully I can work through this writer's block. I was actually really close to ending both TLOA and The One without finishing them, but it wouldn't be fair to any loyal readers. Thanks for baring with me guys.**


	2. Uneventful

**Dedication: All of you who have messaged me, asking me to write again. Thanks.**

**A/N #1: Don't kill me… PLEASE don't kill me. I am completely useless when it comes to my promises apparently. I know I said that I would be starting again but another month has gone by with no updates. I'm sorry. Over the last bit I have been basically non-existent online, save an RP I have been in to help me pass my block. I am still completely unsure about my capabilities, but I'm back. For real this time. The thing is, I have an insane schedule right now and I'm not sure how frequent my updates will be. I'll try for once a week. Thank you for everyone who is actually reading this, you all rock.**

The sun was just edging its way over the man-made horizon as Lawrence Gordon pulled back his curtains that day. The air was cold, almost directly on the zero degree mark and hung blandly around the little area of frost covered grass in front of the doctor's apartment building. Lawrence breathed deeply as he pushed his way outdoors and stood on his balcony pondering the day ahead of him. The man let his chin fall onto his hand as he stared blankly into the street, leaning against the railing. Uneventful; he assumed that would be the word he would use to describe the upcoming day when he would look back on it that night. And uneventful was just the way he liked it. His life had been cluttered with numerous 'events' in the recent past, none of them really doing him any good. Abduction, the loss of his foot, the loss of his wife, the abandonment of most of his friends because he 'just wasn't the same'. Yes, Lawrence Gordon was all for uneventful.

Even now as a doctor he tried not to put himself in any trying or exciting cases. He used to handle everything: Major surgeries, Chemo Therapy, Deformities… All the things every doctor wanted! But he, himself had signed the papers to get him transferred over to the Psych Ward at the hospital that had for so long been his home. He was tiered of looking at the plain white walls that were stained so frequently with the blood of patients. Now he could stare at padded gray ones. All he had to deal with now were the normal everyday tries of the mind… as interesting as it might seem, once you've seen once suicidal human you've seen them all. At least that's what the doctor thought.

After a few minutes of mindless thinking, the doctor made his way inside to get ready for the bleak day ahead of him. Light music buzzed in the background as Lawrence dragged himself into the kitchen. His right ankle twinged slightly as the rough skin that replaced his foot was dragged along the ground. After his wound had healed he had been given a cane from a fellow employee that he was supposed to use but his pride kept him from using it often. He smiled to himself slightly as he sipped the caffeine he held in his hand. If there was one thing Lawrence still had from his former life, it was his pride. Tipping his head back, Lawrence chugged the last of his drink and put the cup amongst the overflow of dishes already sitting beside his sink. The doctor stared at them warily before turning around and going to his bedroom to get dressed for work. He wouldn't bother to shower, no one in his ward cared what he looked like anyway. He learned that after only a day.

In only a few minutes the doctor was ready to go and in even less time he was perched outside of his entrance. Lawrence only used the back entrance now days. He had begun using it to avoid the stares of curious people and it really became habit. It was a stroke of luck that the back lot was the closest to his ward. Cautiously, Lawrence limped his way into the elevator and pressed B1. His destination was on the first level of the basement, a strange and generally unoccupied area of the hospital. Only the laundry rooms and psych inhabited that particular area. As Lawrence stepped out of the small area he spied his robe hanging haphazardly upon its hook and shrugged it on. He had barely turned around when Chuck, a small but good-humored doctor was in his face going on about a new patient, talking to fast for Lawrence to understand.

"You'll never believe it!" He squealed, his cheeks rosy in anticipation. "They're bringing us a crazy Larry! A real crazy!" Chuck looked like a little kid on Christmas morning. His whole demeanor screamed excitement. Lawrence smiled at the sight and put both hands firmly on his co-worker's shoulders.

Shaking his head, Lawrence grinned: "What are you talking about Chuck? I have no idea what your saying."

The shorter doctor but his head down and breathed heavily before speaking again. This time he was legible. "Lawrence." He said, his tone clean and crisp. "Administration just called. Some guy is being sent over from the hospital across town… someone they couldn't help. Real piece of work apparently: multiple suicide attempts, depression, Bi-polar with just a touch of schizophrenia. They're faxing his sheet over now. Oh Lawrence, isn't it wonderful?"

The doctor didn't wait for Lawrence to respond, instead choosing to skip down the hall in front of them, pausing only to click his heels together once. Lawrence frowned deeply, worry lines shooting up from the corners of his eyes. This was not what he needed, today was supposed to be comfortable, boring, uneventful! A dull beeping interrupted the doctor's thoughts as a fax came through to his left. The doctor strutted over to the machine, a grimace playing on his face. This was not what he had signed up for. Lawrence picked the paper up in his hand and held it tightly, skimming over the information. Yes, it seemed Chuck had gotten the gist of it... this patient was completely fucked up. Who was this guy? Lawrence's eyes drifted up towards the basic information section of the sheet, the part he completely ignored. What the doctor saw made his heart stop.

There, scrawled untidily on the top of the sheet was a name, a name that had haunted his mind for almost two years: Adam J. Faulkner.

**A/N #2: YAY! UPDATE! So, not exactly like my old writing but give me a break… it's been ages. Reviews would be awesome.**

**Oh! And, just wondering: It's totally up to you guys if I finish 'The Last of Adam' and 'The One'. I will continue if you want, but I could stop just as easily. Should I just start new or keep going? What do you guys think? Let me know.**

**Thanks again!**


	3. I Know You

**A/N #1: Hey… It's been awhile. I'm not going to bother with excuses and such. I said I would get stuff up when I could, so here we are. Again, it could be much better. Uh, the good news is that, today, I have actually written two stories! This and a fic for Cruel Intentions (which you should all go read 'cause those boards are DEAD). So yes, just some crazy Adam for you! Enjoy.**

Lawrence couldn't breathe. He was used to it, working in this profession, to feel a shortness of breath. It was normal and encouraged when working in the emergency room to feel like you were underwater chocking for air, it was said to help you bond with the patients. This was different. Not only was the doctor practically suffocating, his entire body felt like it was shutting down. Each of his limbs fall heavily to his sides and his spastically beating heart was the only thing that was keeping him from collapsing. It took all of him to keep himself from fainting as he made his way to a chair.

"Fuck…" The man gasped, holding his hand to his forehead. All of the blood in his body was rushing to his head. His hands felt numb.

The next challenge was breathing; the doctor had to get his breath pattern down to a normality. Deep, rattling sounds crept up his throat and eventually settled on his tongue. He was going to be all right. Echoing steps to his right alerted him to the return of his co-worker. Lawrence looked up.

Wide-eyed, Chuck took both of Lawrence's shoulders into his hands and shook them lightly, "Jeeze man, you alright? You look like you've just seen a ghost."

The man shrugged Chuck's hands off and shuddered. Chuck didn't know how close he really was to the truth.

"Yes," Lawrence responded almost robotically, it had become a habit answer to the question he was asked so often. "I'm absolutely fine… I just… I know this guy." The doctor nodded his blonde head towards the paper that now lay disgruntled on the floor.

Chuck picked up the sheet, stood silently for a second and then chuckled.

"Christ, this kid really is a fuck-up, isn't he? His name does seem familiar… I think I may have worked with him before I came here. Wasn't he a surgeon in the general across town?" Chuck's eyes searched his companion's for answers. Now it was Lawrence's turn to laugh.

"No, I highly doubt it."

Chuck nodded and shrugged, "Huh… Maybe I've read it somewhere. You know, this guy's going to be here pretty soon I think. Chief said he was coming up today… I think we should put him in room 229, right beside that basket case blonde who-"

Abruptly the man was cut off by the clanging bell of the elevator.

"Shit, that's probably him." The doctor continued. "I should go prep the room, you can handle this?"

Lawrence opened his mouth to answer but his co-worker was already halfway down the hall. Lawrence shook his head and grimaced, temples throbbing. This was not what he signed on for. He took this job to get away from his bad memories, not be full-frontally faced with them. The doctor will never forget the clicking sound of the door that day as it opened to introduce him once more to his future.

There he stood, wearing an expression fit to kill. Out of the elevator came Adam Faulkner, held down securely by two large security officers. Lawrence almost didn't recognize him… No longer was Adam's face a picture of juvenile defiance and life, now his skin sat hollow on his bones. His sullen eyes were still as piercing as ever but they no longer held the beauty and wonder behind them. His hair was matted and unwashed; his clothes look two sizes too big. Long white bandages encased both of his wrists and lower arms, hinting at failed methods Adam had attempted to end his life.

Lawrence felt his heart go weak just looking at him. Once more he had to hold together the spasms.

"Walk.", Ordered a rough looking guard who held Adam under his left arm. The boy's feet were dragging behind him as if he had decided to give up using them. Lawrence shook his head and pointed to the chair he himself had just been sitting in. Haphazardly, the uniformed men though him in place.

Lawrence looked at Adam for a second before speaking, "He's not dangerous to anyone but himself, I read his file." The doctor looked at the two men whom still held Adam's unused limbs. "I think I could take it from here."

The man who had spoken before looked Lawrence up and down, lingering slightly on his missing foot and smiled, "Whatever you say, Gordon. Have fun with this guy… I hope you can fix him up."

The doctor offered a fake smile as the imposing men left the psych-ward lobby. All Adam would do is stare at the floor, his lips sealed shut. Both men stood in silence for a few moments before Lawrence shuffled over to his patient. After all, this was his job. He was supposed to cure Adam.

"Hey," The doctor smiled and held out his hand. Adam disregarded him completely. "Okay…" Lawrence mumbled. Once more silence filled the auditorium.

Lawrence had no idea what to do he had dealt with unresponsive patients before, hell, he had lived with an unresponsive wife for years, but none of those times had prepared him for this. The man was, for once in his entire life, at a complete loss for words.

Over the silence a loud whistle could be heard. Despite his current predicament, the doctor smiled.

"That's, uh, Chuck." Lawrence said, his voice little more then a whisper. "He's a co-worker. He's a little crazy himself actually."

Again, there was no response. Once more quietness inhabited the room. The two men sat silently, lost in though for what seemed like ages. Even the occasional normal sounds were obliterated as the two men contemplated their next action.

"…I know you." Were the words that jolted Lawrence back from his thoughts. It took the doctor a moment to comprehend where the words had come from. The raspy and un-emotional voice that spoke them sounded barely human. Lawrence returned his gaze to the boy's face but Adam's eyes were still looking away.

"I know you." Adam said again, this time shifting his body as if he were uncomfortable. "You were there… you were there the day everything went to fucking hell. You were there when he died. You were there when blood.. When it covered everything. You were there when I died. You were there, I know you."

Adam's voice seemed to rise yet get quieter with ever syllable he chocked out. Lawrence put a hand on the man's shoulder and was instantly surprised when Adam grabbed hold of it. Slowly, the patient turned his head to meet Lawrence's wondering eyes.

"You were there," He spoke once more, Lawrence could feel him shaking. "You… you rescued me. Or, you thought you did. You… you… I can feel him all the time. I can feel his eyes. He's watching me! He's… he's… you… he's coming!"

Lawrence could feel Adam's cold flesh against his own, his nails biting into his skin, and somehow he couldn't force Adam to stop.

"He'll come… he's here always.. I.. You. Don't leave me!" Adam proclaimed suddenly, "You can't! I know you! I know!"

By this time Adam's voice had raised into a high scream, panicked and terrified. He continued to yell illegible obscenities for a moment before breaking into full-blown tears. Between sobs only Lawrence's name could be heard coming from the patient's chapped lips.

"Listen!" Lawrence proclaimed, cupping the boy's chin in his freehand and forcing his flailing face still. "I'm not going to leave you, I'm going to cure you. I will fix you."

**A/N #2: Oh, Lawrence… What would Adam do without you? I love crazy Adam.. love love love! Anyway, review away my darlings!!**

**Ps; I'll catch up on my reviewing ASAP.**


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